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The slight breeze of the midnight wind makes Daniel look up — the curtains seem to open up, revealing the darling night and its wonders as the body still spasms from the blood loss and the certain bite wounds on his body.
Armand picked him up from the club near their home — he came home so excited, showing off the poor man who thought he would fuck a pretty and beautiful man with angelic features; honestly, he gets him in that sense.
He too was once this naïve — it’s just that his naivety turned into love and into drugs and then into obsession and more love.
Certain free thinkers would tell Daniel Molloy it is unhealthy codependency, and Daniel would look to say, very snarkily, “Fuck off, you don’t know anything!” but he is nice about it.
Just as nice as Armand, who let the poor guy watch Armand fuck him before his inevitable death.
Needless to say, it is another good night on in their undead lives — Armand fucked Daniel and is blissfully full and happy dangling his feet (Daniel does not look at them) and is playing on his favourite iPad and Daniel is right next to him, so Armand can lean his body on his as Daniel works on another little project of his without being separated.
Daniel is too, properly fucked, filled to the brim with blood and with more blood in his guts, and is happy.
What else is there to say, really? Besides the obvious bloodless corpse in the room.
Armand hums and seems to click to a different app on his pretty little device (Sometimes Daniel believes he loves that thing more than him. He knows the truth, but sometimes… sometimes the urge to smash it is there. He has a compitition with a tiny mini computer, of all things.) and Daniel types on his laptop, sometimes getting distracted by the surrounding noises, of the waves and the smell of salt and generally just beach (truly you never know how a beach smells until you turn into an otherworldly creature) when Armand stops and gasps as if he found the 7th wonder of the world.
Or perhaps the 10th or the…. wonder number 1000.
Armand is very old, and he loves all of him, even when he turns to him, with a sparkle in his eyes and says, “Daniel, Daniel, did you know about the new Nintendo Switch 2?”
Daniel grunts.
He is almost surprised that neither Benji nor Sybelle did not show him that thing. No matter, he thinks.
He has to talk to them soon anyway when they visit.
Now that the apocalypse is over and Akasha is history, just like 90% of the vampiric population, it took them both a while to get into this, whatever they are.
Companions, finally.
He can hear the echoes of the girl in Louis’ voice and in his voice as he wrote it in the book.
Companions, finally, finally, finally.
It only took them, what? Murder, crimes, a big concert that killed too many vampires to count, Daniel almost dying and Armand to almost lose his mind, and a real, proper talk to get to this point.
He should write a ‘ How- To-Get- Your- Maker-101’ next.
His newest bestseller, he can already see it.
“They say you can make your own character in this, ‘Tomodachi Life’.”
Daniel barely pays attention to the screen of his laptop anymore, so he turns to Armand, “Look, look.” Armand shoves the screen into his face, and Daniel’s head could explode with how near the pixels are, almost pressed against his face, really.
“Let’s make us. You make me and I make you.”
Another grunt.
It’s like Armand is catching up with the technology now, that the time is there and he has nothing to do.
It is almost endearing.
Like seeing a child eating apple-pie for the first time and seeing the bits and pieces around their mouth, pieces slices stuck in between their teeth as they smile to tell you how tasty it is.
Yet with Armand, this phenomenon happens almost every time he finds something new and exciting that was happening the last few years.
“Did you order that console and game already?”
Armand nods against his shoulder, his curly hair longer than he normally wears it.
It’s quite a lazy day today, and Armand didn’t touch the scissors after waking up; for the first time in months, perhaps.
Even in the vague memories his brain provides him, whenever he saw Armand, he would cut them off, never keep them longer than above his shoulders, and yet, today — it is almost like he forgot.
Daniel does not mention it, his hand moving on its own accord to let the fingertips go through the open curls.
He is so relaxed. The shoulder rarely tenses anymore, and his eyes so soft and twinkling, there is this shine to them that could rival the morning sun.
Something deep inside Daniel crawls through, and he has to keep his eyes on the ceiling for several seconds before he could look down again.
And when he does, Armand already looks at him with a certain smile on his mouth, something so shy and rosy, it almost does not belong on Armand’s face.
And yet it does — for when they are alone and not with others, it does.
“Let me comb your hair.” Armand looks up at him, the iPad forgotten in his hands.
What a joy to see a genuine question mark pop up in this giant head of his.
A visible monster, hiding beneath the earth because the idea of someone else taking care of him scares him.
Daniel could not be happier than to be in this place, in this bed, and on their very own island.
“Would you do that?”
Daniel chuckles, and Armand places his hand on his chest as he does so, watches the muscles work.
“I have daughters, baby. I know how to work with hair. “
He does not think Armand wants to braid it or put anything in them; abandoning the feminine look, perhaps, as long as he can.
Until he is in love with it again, they can teach each other to love their bodies again.
“I will just comb it today, no? Before you go to sleep.”
“And then, tomorrow we can play the, “ Tomodachi Life,” Daniel hums, brings the comb to the bed, when Armand looks down at his lap, his hands touching, sharp claws picking skin, “…. As you take care of me as you do now?”
Daniel touches his hair and starts to bring the comb down, “Sure, babe. If you want to.”
Armand does not say a thing, and for a while the only thing their sensitive ears can detect is the ocean waves playing with each other, meeting at the shore, and the soft and gentle movement of the brush.
He is precise with it; tries to get every strand of hair.
“Mhm, did you oil the comb, beloved?”
Daniel hums. Even undead, the hair needs caring. And even when alive, most hair strands are dead cells anyway — Daniel realises that there is no difference with the care he has to show.
“Of course, I did?”
He scoffs, shaking his head as Armand looks down again, “You have thick hair, baby.”
And his daughters had similar hair structure, so Daniel was used to it.
Loved, loves doing it.
He wonders what Armand is thinking now — if he is perhaps in an unfamiliar room with different people as Daniel shows him care. If he misses the people when he was human, too.
“I am almost done.”
Armand nods and takes his unused hand in his, bringing him closer to his face, kissing each finger softly.
“What a good fledgling, taking care of me,” he whispers against the pale skin, his claws tracing the wrinkles among the hand he is holding, as if counting each and every little thing; the moles and pigmented skin; there is wonder in those eyes.
Again, he scoffs, and Armand blinks in confusion. Of course, he is confused.
“I am doing it because of that. I just love you. To love is to take care.”
He tugs against one strand of hair that he is holding in his hand still, gentle enough that it would not hurt a child, and Armand moans against him, his eyes turning to slits.
Of course, he would not like that, but Daniel is careful enough to not ruin this moment; no, no, this moment seemed important.
Something he would want more details of if he were writing about it.
“And I care for you, Armand.” He shuffles closer until there is no space between them, Armand’s back perfectly placed against his chest, “I care for you.”
Daniel’s bigger build swallows him whole. He is sure that from some angles you might not even see Armand. He is well hidden in Daniel’s arms.
He kisses his head, smells the faint oils he used in the combs and sighs against him.
“You smell divine.”
Armand whines, small yet stirring Daniel’s dead heart all the same, so he opens his eyes, only to see Armand bring both of his hands towards his face, touching his reading glasses.
“You don’t need them, love.”
Daniel is aware. They don’t do anything anymore. He was always wearing glasses when he does his job.
Armand takes them off his face, laying them on the nightstand next to their bed.
He is like a swan in times like this, as he barely breaks eye contact, watching Daniel as he does what he does. His small hands grasp his face again, bringing him closer; just to touch his lips with his fingertips, pressing against them.
Daniel lets him do anything, just so this monster in his arms can settle his curious and precious mind.
And, of course, Armand does not disappoint.
He continues to caress his face lovingly as he brings their faces closer to each other, closer and closer until their lips were touching.
Then, with a small whisper, as if he would reveal a big, dark secret, he says, “I want to build boats in this ‘ Tomodachi Life’ virtual world. I want to see them build and I want to… see the ocean there, too.”
Daniel blinks at him. Armand blinks back and suddenly he feels like a stupid bird catching seeds in the open street.
Yet he is a dove and his white feathers turn red from all the bleeding.
“Of course, you want that,” he whispers back and nuzzles his nose, “And you should have that,” he stops, thinking.
“And when there isn’t a feature like that, I will make sure they update that shit.”
Armand laughs, loud and open.
There is no one else but Daniel to give the applause. He holds him closer instead, and Armand does not stop laughing to bow and catch more praise.
“See how good you are to me? I should brag about you more often. Next time Lestat asks us to show up at court, I shall. I shall make them all so jealous, they will cry blood.”
The last time they were at court, Armand made Daniel kneel in front of all them and lick his shoes and feet, each and every toe; to which, yeah sure he did it gladly but he is also aware who was the target audience for this.
He remember the tall man, watching them with those narrowed hawk eyes as Armand was gleefully showing off.
He should call him Grandpapa next time they visit them.
Honestly, though it didn’t take long for all of them to disappear as Daniel succumbed to the Very Special Bond, as they like to call it.
Brag about it, as usual.
“ I think, you make them all cry every time we visit.”
Armand tuts and shakes his head; it looks almost adorable.
Armand, who is free and does not need to perform? Adorable to the core.
“Not even remotely true, beloved! Benji and Sybelle? I would never make them cry like this.”
Daniel sighs.
Well, as if he could make his two perfect children cry? Armand would never.
The children happened after, after Daniel came back to himself and heard the cries behind that door.
He didn’t want to open that door, back then but something in him knew that he had to comfort, he had to sprint out and hold him as he broke — this is how Daniel learned that Armand had found happiness elsewhere, in two precious souls.
And just as fast as he learned to open up and love these two children, their souls were taken from them, just as fast.
As a mercy and showcase for his love, Marius told him.
Daniel did not really hear more after that.
He blinks and looks out at the open window and can feel the creeping death that the sun might bring in mere hours.
Horrible feeling, to know that the grace of the eternal sun is now your enemy.
He learned to be fine with that, he thinks.
Benji and Sybelle are more capable than he in that regard, as they already loved the night more than they did the sun. And Daniel had to come back to himself and relearn that.
“Were are the two rascals of yours, now that we talk about them?”
Armand hums, his hand caressing his own hair, slowly, his large golden eyes blinking up at him.
“Do you miss our children that badly, my love?” Daniel’s heart flinches at that.
Two face flicker in his heart and disappear just as fast. They have a coffin and a pretty grave with his name now; they are fine ,they will be fine.
This is a new life, and Armand gave him two new children — just as Marius did.
Marius’ care is boundless, and so is his reach and his never-ending need to seem like he knows better than anyone else.
“Not as much as you do. You want to teach Sybelle how to walk in the sun next, do you?”
It would be interesting to see, really — he doesn’t know if she can do that, but Marius might be able to with his 2.000 years old, crappy, old, ancient, ugly blood.
Daniel does not want to think about it; nor how much his teeth ache when he thinks about it.
Armand shrugs, blinking down again as if considering something else, his lips twitching.
“They are not mine like…”
“No! No, no, no. He can’t teach for shit.”
Now that Daniel thinks of it, maybe, just maybe, he does not want to teach his kids anything about vampirism at all, considering he lost them like that and he does not like to be reminded of it.
Maybe he was too stupid and didn’t think again and opened his mouth too fast and now it is too late and — Armand takes a deep breath and Daniel blinks.
“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers, and Armand blinks up at him. Cuddles and cuddles up, his hands at his chest and his big beautiful bug eyes shining and too large for his face as he whispers back, “ How else could I bring you back?”
Daniel considers him, and Armand does the same. The waves outside clash against the sand, and both of them breathe out.
“Maybe you could just ask her first, see what she might say.”
Armand hums and nods against him, as he turns properly, so they are pressed against each other, chest to chest.
“I am going to ask them to make their own ‘Tomadachi Life’ characters and I think they going to make each other beautiful,”
Daniel snorts and holds the vampire, the monster of monster close.
He has the sacred and holy mission to hold him close when the monster lets the boy inside his cage out.
They stay like this, for a while. The silence is calming, to them both.
The guy is long dead ( ugh) and they would have to clean them, but right now there is this — silence.
Daniel closes his laptop and puts it aside. He can do his work later, perhaps much later, when he wants to.
He has all the time in the world, really. He soothes his maker, instead who has not stopped looking at him with those big scary amber eyes; Daniel is familiar with that.
Armand gets lost in there sometimes, when he is all alone and does not need to be in control.
It is almost like, he has finally time, to think and simply be.
“You are beautiful like this,” Armand says, and Daniel has to snort.
Like what? Old and shrivelled, fat and unloving? Or perhaps it is the self-confidence and the stubbornness that make Armand see beauty in him?
“And you are staring, boss.”
Armand sighs when he does and rests his head against his chest, presses his ears against his undead heart.
The blood that they drank earlier is still flowing through Daniel’s nervous system, and it seems to calm Armand down, at least to a certain extent.
Maybe it is the bond of Maker and Fledgling? To know that your blood is safe and sound and fed? Daniel shelves that thought down for later.
“What else can I do but stare?” Armand starts, and Daniel knows what comes next, he is prepared for it; loves it when Armand gets poetic like that.
To be loved by an ancient is to know what you get monologues, just like these, “How else can I live, beloved, when I can’t go around and proudly show what a beautiful thing I made? Did you know? Did you know how many people want you? I have to shoo them away from you sometimes! It is exhausting. I made you too perfect. I made you so beautifully perfect. And now everyone wants a taste of you.”
Daniel sighs and goes through his hair again, the locks like silk in his hands.
“Then keep me close, boss. Keep me and never leave me.”
Armand hums and bites him; it is playful that bite, barely inside his skin before he lets go.
Just a reminder of who he is — terrible, terrible vampire Armand, who loves his creation and marks him whenever and everywhere.
Daniel could not be more in love. With every memory that flashes through him when he closes his eyes and with every moment with Armand when he opens them.
He could not be more in love with him.
What is it that Armand sees it in him?
There is so many things to consider, so many to count and evaluate, however …
No, no — he knows what it is.
It is that he is utterly and truly his, and Armand belongs to him; companionship.